


The Many Views of War

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-14
Updated: 2007-09-14
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Where were you during the final battle?*MAJOR DH SPOILERS*





	The Many Views of War

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**The Many Views of War.**

You’re bleeding. You’re aching, wheezing, even limping slightly, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop, not now. Not when you could die at any moment. Not when there are other people that need you, that need someone. That need to stay alive.

A blast, a flash of light; rocks and rubble are flying towards your face, and you shield your eyes from the influx. Your wheezing acts up more as you inhale the dust and dirt from the explosion. You raise your wand; at what, you don’t know, but you feel safer knowing that you can just spout a hex or spell to save yourself. Maybe even an Unforgivable Curse.

Because you’re in a time where 16-year-olds must use Unforgivable Curses to stay alive.

You squint through the dust that still inhabits the air, and see a small group fighting a ways away. Three on two it looks like. One of the figures fall, doesn’t get back up. It’s the smallest of the group, a student most likely. You quickly and silently grieve for this student, this person that is still considered a child, and you move on. 

That’s what you do in war.

You climb through the large boulders that were once part of the Charms corridor and aim a spell behind your back, for you think you saw a masked shadow gaining on you. You don’t have time to look back. You can’t look back. Never look back.

You levitate a large rock and release it, hitting your target and knocking out a Death Eater that was about to aim the Killing Curse at Neville Longbottom. _Not my friends,_ you think to yourself. _You’re not getting my friends._

You see Neville panting slightly. He makes eye contact; you don’t break it.

“Th-thanks, Luna,” he gasps, clutching a stitch in his side. You nod, softly and only once, as if you’re listening to a soft melody in your mind that you can’t help but move to.

“No problem, Neville,” you say, the left side of your mouth lifting up on its own accord. “Will you be all right now?”

He nods once at you, just like you did him, and stands a little bit taller, firmer. 

You don’t give him a second glace as you trot away, away from your last battle and towards your next.

______________________________

You don’t pay attention to Luna Lovegood leaving you as another masked figure advances on you, yet you spend a split second hoping she’ll be safe, that everyone you know will be safe. You raise your wand, Harry’s voice from past DA meetings flowing through your mind. You feel safer at this, like Harry himself is right there beside you, whispering instructions and words of encouragement in your ear.

The Death Eater aims the Killing Curse at you, and you’re ready for it. You throw yourself behind one of the many destroyed walls you’ve passed. Now it looks like a jagged barrier; perfect to hide behind and fire spells.

_“Expelliarmus!”_ you scream, aiming your wand over the barrier, not even chancing a glance. You hear it crash against the window behind the Death Eater, shattering it. Now it’s the Death Eaters turn.

_“Avada Kedavra!”_ The Death Eater’s voice is gruff, hoarse, like it’s been spouting the Killing Curse all day. Which, you think to yourself, he probably has. Part of your hiding place breaks off, turning to rubble.

“I can do this all day, boy!” the Death Eater shouts, aiming the same curse once more, shattering more of the barrier.

This time, you jump out from behind the barrier, tired of being afraid, thinking that Harry would never hide behind a half-demolished wall. _“EXPELLIARMUS!”_ you screech.

The Death Eater ducks, but you don’t give him a second to recover. _“STUPEFY!”_ you scream this time, and the Death Eater falls, immobile. Just in case, you grab his wand and break it in half. Just in case.

You leave him now, practically flying over the rubble that once was a wall to help others, to maybe see if Luna needs help this time. But something is niggling the back of your mind. Then if hits you; you turn left and head towards the 5th floor.

Your sneakers squeak as you race down the corridor, all the while thinking, hoping, that your gran is still on the 5th floor where you last left her…

______________________________

You’re out. You’re finally free to help the people you love and care for. _Not of age, my arse,_ you think to yourself, _I still have a few good hexes up my sleeve._

Knowing that Harry will come looking for you if you don’t get back to the Room of Requirement, you run faster, hoping he doesn’t find you and lock you in. You skid around a corner too quickly and trip over something on the floor, making you crash to the floor.

Actually, some _one._

You scrunch up your face, not wanting to see who it was, but you still turn the body on its back. Any body could be Harry.

You open one eye, then two, but in shock. A hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other your eyes. Your throat emits a strange sound, a sound between a scream and a bark of laughter. You uncover your eyes, staring into Colin Creevey’s lifeless ones. Unblinking, glassy, but still bright, bright blue.

You let a tear escape your left eye, but only one, because if you let more leak out, you won’t be able to stop. You won’t be able to continue on. You grab Colin’s body and hide him behind a suit of armor. Breathless and shining with sweat, you grab your wand and move on. You can’t do anything for him anymore, except hate him a little bit for sneaking back into the castle.

You race through corridor after corridor, passing duels and duels. You’re starting to feel a bit anxious that you haven’t seen any of your family, that you haven’t seen Luna or Neville or Hermione.

That you haven’t seen Harry.

Then, as if they heard your thoughts, you see Fred and Percy running by, shooting curses behind their backs at a Death Eater that you recognize as Dolohov; one of the many that were at the Ministry a couple years back.

One of Fred’s Stunning Spells misses Dolohov, careening over his shoulder and shattering a suit of armor. You hear Dolohov laugh gleefully. The sound makes you sick. You raise your wand and fire your powerful Bat Bogey Hex, and Dolohov, now knowing you were a part of the duel, doesn’t notice and gets hit right in the face. Grabbing his nose in pain, he howls and runs off.

Fred and Percy stop, confused for a moment, before they turn and see you. Their faces of relief turn into rage when they notice it’s their only sister, not someone that’s supposed to fight.

“GINNY!” they both scream. You cringe, but only slightly, and then you straighten your back and scowl. “What? I saved both your arses, didn’t I?”

“You’re supposed to be in the Room of Requirement, SAFE,” Percy says, advancing on you, but you stand your ground. Behind Percy you see Fred, looking furious, but you notice it before he gets a chance to hide it: a look of pride. He taught you well.

“I can do much better fighting that hiding away like some sort of rat.” You point your wand down the corridor where Dolohov disappeared through. “Or did you not just see what I did to Dolohov?”

Percy just stands there, his glasses askew and looking murderous, which to you, looks rather funny. You hide your smirk though; no need to anger him even more.

“Just go, Ginny. We can’t worry about you, too,” Percy sighs, trying and failing to straighten his glasses. You look over at Fred for some support. He just shrugs; a smile evident on his features. You glare back.

But then you hear a scream and the three of you turn to see a group of students being chased by four or five Death Eaters, and there’s nothing Percy can do to stop you. You gain a stronger grip on your wand and get to work.

______________________________

Your heart pounds erratically in your chest; you dwell on it for a split second, and then get back to the task at hand. A Death Eater has just flung a rather nasty curse at you, but you manage to duck and roll just in time. You look for cover from this mad wizard and see the overturned statue of Boris the Bewildered. You fling yourself behind it just as the Death Eater shouts _“Avada Kedavra!”_

You glance around at the other battles carrying on around you; you see Luna Lovegood firing a Stunning Spell at a hooded figure; your best friend Dean Thomas is immersed in another duel with Ernie Macmillan at his side; Draco Malfoy and his two bodyguards are dodging all of the curses and jinxes being thrown around and head for the grand staircase. Thinking nothing of this, you raise your wand over Boris’s head and shout _“Impedimenta!”_ Luckily, your aim is true.

Looking over your shoulder, you see Neville Longbottom aim a Leg-Locker Curse at a Death Eater that was advancing on your back. Hearing the dull thud of the body hit the dust-covered ground, you fling around and watch the figure squirm for his wand that he has dropped. You get to it first. You grab it up and snap it easily, and in an almost patronizing way, you throw the pieces back to the Death Eater.

“Here you go, _sir,_ ” you drawl, letting the two chunks of wood slide off your fingers and on the ground. The Death Eater roars in rage, still trying to pick himself up. He’s successful, but he can only hop towards you, and you guffaw coldly and turn toward Neville. “Thanks, Neville.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves his hand around. A sharp blast; you see Luna and Dean get thrown across the corridor. You get a stronger grip on your wand.

“All right, I won’t,” you say. You both get immersed in another battle. You manage to Stun the Death Eater that blasted the corridor apart, and you barely notice Neville yelling _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ at the Death Eater’s buddy.

You don’t know why, or what’s even happening, but all of a sudden you’re feeling very cold. Then, suddenly, it’s very clear, but Neville voices it before you do.

“Dementors.”

You both run to the closest window and see a swarm of Dementors closing in on the front gates. You can now see your breath puffing out in front of your face; they’re that powerful.

Luna, Ernie and Dean join you and Neville at the window. Luna shoves her arm between you two and gasps loudly. “Look!”

You see them; three small figures running from the front doors of the castle and towards the army. Neville shouts out loud.

“They have no chance against all those Dementors!”

But you’re already on it; you push yourself from the window and rush to the grand staircase. You stop suddenly and gesture for the others to follow. “Come on! We have to help!”

But Neville falters, his body ready to run the opposite direction. “My gran –“

Another sharp blast; more Death Eaters.

“You go, Seamus,” Dean says to you, helping Neville up with one arm and raising his wand with the other, “You go and help them, we’ll stay here.”

You don’t move for a moment, just looking at Dean. His face is hard, final. “GO!” He shoots the Bat Bogey hex at an advancing Death Eater.

You nod once. “Just don’t die, all right?” you say, before taking off down the staircase, barely hearing Luna and Ernie at your heels over the sounds of yelling and crumbling stone. But you don’t stop; you know the Dementors are closing in, closing fast.

You run faster than you’ve ever run in your life. Because when it’s _for_ your life, there’s no time for lollygagging. 

______________________________

The cold invades your lungs, ever sharp breath you take is a stab to your heart, but you don’t stop running, even though it’s a challenge to keep up with Seamus. But you don’t stop. Can’t stop.

Seamus flings the front doors open, the cold coming over the three of you in waves now. Your breath is clearly visible, like you’re breathing smoke, like you’re on fire instead of slowly freezing to death.

You look over your shoulder at Luna, seeing if she’s keeping up. She is. Her face is determined, hard, staring straight ahead, wand at the ready, her arm holding it in front of her body like it’s a shield. She doesn’t even glance at you, but you know she knows you’re looking at her, because she nods once and says “Look.”

You whip your head forward, expecting Seamus to be hurt or something worse, but you notice you’re already where the three figures are. You see their failed attempts at the Patronus Charm; small wisps floating from the tips of their wands and hovering over their heads, as if the smoke is taunting them. The little light that emanates from the smoke lights up the threesome’s faces, and you recognize them immediately: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, bruised, battered, torn… yet still fighting. Heroes, the whole lot of them.

You don’t even pause for a minute; luckily, neither does the other two beside you. You raise your wand and think of your happiest memory, but none come to you. Suddenly, you see a life without pain and death; a life without You-Know-Who, and you scream out _“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”_ Your Patronus, a boar, bursts forth from your wand and chases down the Dementors; a silver hare and fox flanking it. 

The three Patronuses push the Dementors back, but don’t drive them off completely; they’re not strong enough. You keep at it, though. You’re slowly draining of strength, sweat pops across your forehead but you don’t dare wipe it off, in case you break your Patronus. You suddenly hear a voice: Luna.

“That’s right,” she says, so matter-of-factly that you almost laugh. Not knowing who she is talking to, you turn to see her kneeling on the ground next to Harry, her hare fluttering around her head sickeningly fast. “That’s right, Harry… come on, think of something happy.”

“Something happy?” you hear Harry whisper. You feel a sharp jab of fear in your spine; you’ve never heard Harry that weak before.

“We’re all still here,” Luna says as a substitute for a happy memory. “We’re still fighting. Come on now…”

You see Harry slowly lift his wand, almost painfully. He manages to say _“Expecto Patronum”_ and you see a great bright stag burst from the tip of his wand, brighter than the other Patronuses. It chases down the remaining Dementors. You let your wand arm fall limp to your side, watching Harry, Ron and Hermione pull themselves up from the ground, still looking battered, but thankful.

“Can’t thank you enough,” Ron pants, lightly grabbing his head, “you just saved –“

But you don’t hear him finish. A giant chose that moment to crash through the Hogwarts grounds and almost step on you and the others. You manage to jump out of the way, grabbing Luna with you.

“We gotta go!” you hear Seamus yell. Agreeing wholeheartedly, you catch Luna’s eye and jerk your head toward the front doors. Nodding, she grabs her wand that fell from her grasp and starts running. Seamus follows shortly, but you stay behind for one second longer, wondering where the other three have gone off to. With no sign of them, you hope they’re safe and you take off after Luna and Seamus, preparing yourself for another round of battles.

______________________________

You manage to find a safe haven amongst the chaos; leaning against one of the few stable walls in the castle, wiping sweat from your brow. But the grip on your wand does not falter. In fact, it’s still poised in front of you, just waiting for another Death Eater to cross your path, waiting for someone to attack and destroy more that you hold dear.

But no one comes.

Your chest is ready to explode, your lungs aching for oxygen and your heart pounding, unable to return to its normal speed. You wonder wildly if it ever will.

Suddenly there’s a shadow bobbing from around the corner. Your wand feels slippery in your grasp, but you still don’t falter. There are footsteps that have joined the shadow; it’s coming closer to where you lean. Your breath catches.

Just when you have the Stunning Spell on the tip of your tongue, the shadow slides across the dimly lit wall and becomes flesh. You start, a shaky cry stumbles out of your throat.

“Parvati!” the figure shrieks, but you silence her with a finger to your lips. She approaches you, and you grab her arm and pull her towards you, glancing over your shoulder.

“Thank God,” the figure whispers, grabbing what she had left of her shiny blonde hair and throwing it over her shoulder; you notice the girl’s hair has been hit with a Singeing Spell, “when I lost you I thought the worst –“

“I’m all right, Lav,” you say, once more glancing over your shoulder, “Have you seen –“

Lavender Brown shakes her head. “No, Parvati, I haven’t. But I asked around; Oliver Wood says he saw Padma in the Entrance Hall last. Maybe she’s still –“

“I _looked_ there!” you cry out, tears now evident in your voice. “This is too much. I can’t _do_ this –“

“Don’t,” Lavender says, her face now hard, eyes shining brightly. “Don’t say things like that, okay? We _can_ do this, all right? Remember the DA, huh? Remember?”

You offer no response, but Lavender seems to not need one. She nods flamboyantly, grabbing your wand arm. “That’s right. It’ll be okay, it _has_ to be. I can’t do this without you, you’re my best friend.  I need my best friend now.”

“I need my sister,” you whisper, not to anyone in particular.

“And we’ll find her, all right? Come on, you helped me when I couldn’t get the hang of my defensive spells in those DA meetings, it’s my turn to help you.”

She grabs your arm tighter now, pulling you from the wall. “We have to keep fighting, now, Parvati. We have to keep going.”

“What for?” You’re at your lowest now, you feel like giving up; but Lavender won’t let you. Not now. She shakes you slightly and stares right in your eyes; her own glassy and tense.

“For Padma, for everyone. For happiness.”

______________________________

Amidst all of the fighting; amidst all of the spells being thrown about and the school crumbling around you, you can’t help but think of Ginny Weasley.  

If you concentrate hard enough, you can feel her touch, smell her hair, see her face. If you can just concentrate hard enough…

But it’s rather hard when you’re fighting two Death Eaters at once.

Neville has run off during a time where there was no chaos. But now it’s back, and you’re alone in the corridor.

Already you think you’ve lost, even before it’s all over. You’ve lost, boy. You’ve lost.

Your face crumples at this, followed by Ginny’s beautiful face, and you wonder if she’s all right. If she’s still alive. But that move has cost you.

A spell hits you in the hand, the hand that’s holding your wand: a Slicing Charm. Three of your fingers are cut clean off and are now lying on the floor covered in blood. You screech out in pain, grabbing the injured appendage. Through the unshed tears, you see the two Death Eaters, smiling down at you, probably deciding on how to end your life: quickly or slowly.

The Death Eater to the left cackles harshly; a woman by the sound of it. She raises her wand. You hope it’ll be quick.

_“EXPELLIARMUS!”_

The force of this spell causes the woman to lose her wand and tumble to the ground. The second Death Eater, not knowing where the spell came from, decides to shoot curses every which way. The bodiless voice screeches the Stunning Spell and the Death Eater slumps to the floor, motionless.

The female Death Eater scrambles toward her wand, but you manage to let go of your right hand and use the left to scoop up the wand.

_“Petrificus Totalus!”_

The spell is done clumsily, since it’s not your wand and you are not left-handed, but it does its job. The Death Eater freezes and stays that way.

You look around for your savior, and see Oliver Wood emerging from behind an overturned statue. He picks up your wand and holds it for a moment, them decides to hand it to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, the pain in your hand coming back in full force.

“I’m no good at mending fingers that have been sliced clean off, mate,” Oliver says gruffly, bending down slowly and picking up your middle, ring and pinky fingers, barely wincing, “but with the fingers, Madam Pomfrey will be able to reattach them right quick.”

You pocket your wand and hold out your left hand to take your own fingers, cradling your right to your chest, but Oliver shakes his head. “I got them.”

“But they’re –“ you pause, a wave of revulsion hitting you. “They’re _my_ … fingers,” you finish lamely; “I should hold them.”

“Dean,” Oliver says, calm yet firm, “let me help you. You need me anyway, just in case you run into more of those cowardly Death Eaters.”

You nod slightly, feeling weak from loss of blood. Oliver notices, and his brows become knit with concern. He grabs your arm. “Let’s go.”

You set off down the corridor, Oliver holding his wand at the ready. He pockets your fingers, and you sway at the sight of three of your fingers disappearing into someone else’s pocket. But you carry on, taking care not to bump your injured hand, which is now wrapped in your Hogwarts robes.

After several minutes of silence, you start to become uneasy. Where is everyone? Why aren’t there duels and fighting? Oliver, obviously feeling this as well, voices his concern.

“What’s going on? What the bloody hell is going on?” he says under his breath, apparently not talking to you, but you hear him anyway.

Just then, a voice answers Oliver’s questions. A cold, sharp, high voice that echoes throughout the corridors and across the grounds. It sounds gleeful, happy, but with an air of annoyance; apparently the voice still hasn’t gotten what it really wants: Harry Potter.

You hope it stays that way.

______________________________

“You have fought valiantly.” A voice jolts you out of your reverie. You finally manage to tear your eyes away from Snape’s body, still in shock that this is real, that this is all real, that people you know and love have died and that Snape also is gone. The voice continues; you wish you could just tune it out, but it echoes across the grounds, and manages to find the three of you in the Shrieking Shack.

“Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. 

“Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, once by one.”

You start feeling sick, swaying on the spot. You feel a hand under your elbow, steadying you, only slightly. You look up to see Ron Weasley staring down at you with sad eyes. The cold, cruel voice continues.

“Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.”

You hear Ron snort derisively. You make a mistake by looking down. You can’t help it: you let out a small sob for your old Professor. Ron’s hand squeezes your elbow slightly. 

You wish this would all be over, and that you could escape somewhere with Ron and be with him forever.

But then you hear the voice call out Harry’s name, and your eyes immediately snap over to him, still on the ground, holding the flask encasing Snape’s memory.

“I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself…”

You shake your head quickly, coughing quietly in order to get Harry’s attention; he is still staring at Snape. He looks up slowly and you shake your head more violently. Ron’s fingers dig into your arm sharply. The feeling is wonderful.

“I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences.”

 You inhale sharply. Harry’s eyes grow cold, angry. It scares you slightly. It shouldn’t; you’ve been on the receiving end of his angry attacks more than once.

“This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.” Silence. It’s deafening.

You’re still shaking, and not even Ron’s firm grasp stops you. You hear him clear his throat.

“Don’t listen to him,” he rasps out. You, then, manage to find your own voice as well.

“It’ll be all right,” you say, even though you feel as if it’ll be far from it. “Let’s – let’s get back to the castle, if he’s gone to the forest we’ll need to think of a new plan –“

You cut yourself off and stare hopelessly into Snape’s cold, black eyes. You reluctantly shake Ron’s grip off your arm and head back down the tunnel, back to Hogwarts. Ron follows shortly after.

The three of you make it to the castle, and you notice that Voldemort has kept his word; there’s not a battle in sight. The Death Eaters really have retreated. For now.

But still, the silence is eerie. You shiver slightly, rubbing your arms and grabbing your robe to cover your shoulders more. You feel Ron right beside you, his arm rubbing against your own.

You enter the castle and see that the Entrance Hall is completely deserted; the remnants of past battles still litter the stone floor. The House hourglasses have shattered; emerald and crimson stones intermix with gold and sapphire. You almost slip on one of the smooth stones but you manage to catch yourself.

“Where is everyone?” you whisper in the silence, but neither of them answer. Ron pushes ahead of you and Harry and walks brusquely toward the double doors leading to the Great Hall. He pushes them open.

The sight that meets your eyes is like a nightmare. A nightmare that you can’t wake up from. The dead are lined up in the middle of the Hall, lying on their backs, their eyes closed. You do the same.

Then you see the Weasley’s. You know who they’re surrounding. You can’t look, you won’t look. 

You feel your face scrunch up, getting ready to cry, but you see Ginny, standing off to the side of her family. Like she’s in the way, like she’s giving _them_ space. You head over to her.

When she sees you, she lets out a grateful sob. You open your arms when you meet her, and she enters them clumsily, already sobbing on your shoulder. You want to cry, so bad, but you can’t. You need to be strong for Ginny, for her family.

For Ron.

Speaking of, you see him embracing his brother, Bill, then his wife, Fleur Delacour. The tears escaping her eyes look almost silver, and you notice shrewdly that Ron lingers at Fleur, the hug longer than necessary. But you can’t think of that right now.

“Ginny, I’m so sorry,” you whisper in her ear, knowing that’s one of the worst things to say, but you don’t know what else to do. You hug her tighter. She reciprocates.

“I just – I just can’t believe it,” she says, pulling back and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. You offer yours, smiling sadly. She shakes her head, smiling back. Thank God.

“I keep hoping I’ll wake up, Hermione. Why aren’t I waking up yet?” Her voice rises up a few octaves; she’s now squeaking. Your eyes well up now.

“I don’t know, Ginny. I’m thinking that same thing.” You two embrace again.

Over her shoulder, you lock eyes with Ron, who is now standing with his father and George, who are both looking down at Fred’s body. You expect him to look away quickly, pretending he never looked, but he doesn’t this time. His eyes are glassy, but he doesn’t let a tear fall. Since your relationship is brand new, following almost seven years of friendship, some of the looks he gives you are new as well, but you can still understand them. One of the many reasons why you two should be together.

His eyes are full of thousands of different emotions. Anger, sadness, fear. But the biggest one that you can recognize is vulnerability. You know what his eyes are saying now:

_I need you._

You’ve never seen that look from him before. In fact, no one has ever given you that look before. But thankfully you know what to do.

When Ginny lets you go once again and turns toward Charlie, you immediately go to Ron. He breaks the connection that you two had with your eyes and looks down at Fred. You stop by his side and look down at Fred as well.

That ghostly smile is still there. It makes you smile too. It makes you believe that he’s happy now, wherever he is. Cracking jokes and pulling pranks. You hope that George knows that.

You shake your head; a tear falls and hits the floor. You slip your hand in Ron’s for strength. He winds your fingers together and holds on tight, and you realize he needs strength more than you do. You squeeze back.

Then he can’t stand if anymore. He breaks away from his family and walks a few steps back, breathing heavily. His grasp on your hand doesn’t falter, dragging you with him.

“Ron…,” but that’s all you can say. You close your mouth and just look at him.

He lets the tears fall now. “Hermione,” his voice cracks, and he lets your hand go. Your heart breaks for a second, but then it overflows when he pulls you in a hug, one hand tangled in your disgusting hair and the other, large and strong, on your back. You feel his body shake.

You’re startled for a moment, but then you let your arms enclose around his body as well. Feeling this, Ron tightens his hold, like you’re going to disappear at any moment. As if he voiced this fear, you reassure him. 

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You feel him exhale more than hear it; his breath tickles your neck, teasing your hair. He then buries his face in your neck. You feel the tears fall and slide down to your collarbone and – your heart skips a beat – his lips softly pressed against the skin that covers your pulse. You wonder wildly if he feels it beating faster and faster. You’re surprised that you wouldn’t be embarrassed if he did.

“Hermione…”

“Yes, I’m right here.”

He lifts his head up. Before he has the chance, you wipe the tears from his cheeks, lingering. You tilt your head to the side, leaving your hand on his cheek. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Hermione,” he says again. He wants to tell you something.

“Yes?”

He opens his eyes, but then you see them freeze. He scans the hall quickly, his eyes narrowing.

“Ron?”

“Where’s Harry?”

______________________________

“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.”

You freeze, not daring to believe the cold voice. _No,_ you think to yourself, _he’s not dead. He’s_ not _dead. He’s lying. He’s lying._

You ignore the rest of Voldemort’s triumphant speech. Why bother?

You look over and see Hermione. She finds your eyes at the same moment you find hers. She doesn’t believe it either. You see Ginny standing next to your mother. You see that your mother believes it, but Ginny’s face is set, hard.

The hall bursts out in painful tears and angry cries. You shake your head. It’s not true, so why does everyone believe it to be so? You shoot a helpless look at Hermione once more. She shoots one back. You two meet.

“It’s not true. It can’t be true, can it?” she says, clutching the front of your robes.

“I –“ you can’t say anything more. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth. _It can’t be true, can it?_

You see Professor McGonagall race to the double doors. She wants to see for herself. You se despair and pain in her usually stern, yet warm eyes. Why does she believe it as well?

“No…”

You disentangle yourself from Hermione’s grasp and quickly follow. Then you hear it:

“NO!”

You falter, as if the scream had the power to push you over, and in a way, it does. McGonagall. Then –

“No…,” you whisper to yourself once more. “No, no, no, no…”

You rush out the Entrance Hall doors leading to the grounds, and see a sight that is as bad as seeing the dead in the Great Hall. The Death Eaters were lined up, as if daring someone to cross their path, Voldemort a few feet in front of them, smiling gleefully.

Then you see him.

Harry.

Hagrid is cradling Harry’s body to his own, his sobs echoing across the grounds. You feel bile rising in your throat, but you manage to keep it down.

Then the people from the hall start to fill out onto the grounds, start to see that yes, indeed, Harry Potter is dead, and there’s nothing you can do.

You can’t help it; the word is wrenched from your throat in despair. You yourself never thought you could sound like that.

“No!”

_“No!”_

“Harry! HARRY!”

You spin around and see Hermione and Ginny behind you, trying to push their way toward Harry. You grab them both around the shoulders and shake your head. Soon, the large group of survivors echo what you and the girls started; they all scream in outrage, yelling awful words and names at Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters just laugh mockingly at you. Still trying to hold Hermione and Ginny back, you can’t help but see a thin film of red cover your vision. Being a true Weasley, you have quite a temper, and can get mad quite easy, but you’ve never felt this kind of rage. If you had the advantage, you probably could rip one of those Death Eaters to shreds with your bare hands.

“SILENCE!” you hear Voldemort yell, then a bang, and then a flash of bright light. You try and scream at him again, but you are incapable; Voldemort has placed the Silencing Charm on the large group. You are now spitting in anger.

“You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!” He was now pacing back and forth in front of Harry’s body. You are too far past anger that it’s overtaking the grief of the death of your best friend. You look at Voldemort’s cold, snake-like face and you wish you could tear him apart. The anger must have overtaken the spell he put upon you, because now you hear yourself yelling.

“He beat you!” you scream, and that must have broken the spell upon everyone else. The large group behind you starts screaming and yelling once more, but then another bang and flash of light renders you unable to speak again.

The red film over your eyes is getting stronger and stronger. How dare this monster talk down Harry like he was nothing? He was _everything!_ He beat Voldemort more times than you can count, he was a hero! Still is, in your eyes. You glance at Harry on the ground, and the grief comes back. You turn away. 

Suddenly Ginny lets out a sharp gasp, followed by a shocked “no!”

You turn and see Neville Longbottom lying on the ground, halfway between the large group of survivors and the Death Eaters. He is clutching his stomach in pain, slowly curling his legs up to his body, now looking like he is in the fetal position.

You see Neville and Voldemort have a short interaction, but you can’t hear it. Your blood turns to ice. _Not Neville, God, not Neville, too._

You vaguely hear Voldemort make Neville an offer to join the Death Eaters. Neville shakes his head sharply, a small smirk evident on his features, then proceeds to cry out, “I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” he spits out. “Dumbledore’s Army!” He turns to the crowd and they respond with cheers and fists pumping in the air.

You can’t help but wonder why Voldemort’s Silencing Charm cannot hold.

Suddenly, you see Voldemort summon the Sorting Hat from the school. Confused, you see him point his wand at Neville, who now seems unable to move. Voldemort then places the Sorting Hat on his head and sets it on fire.

Suddenly, the world woke up.

You feel as if thousands of things happen at once. You see the centaurs come galloping from the forest and proceed to shoot arrows at the Death Eaters. They scatter, breaking the line. You see Grawp, Hagrid’s half-brother, come charging from the school boundaries, screaming for Hagrid. You see Voldemort’s giants retaliate, racing towards Grawp and causing the ground to shake like an earthquake; you can barely stand up straight.

Your first instinct is to turn toward Hermione and Ginny and tell them to get into the castle. They’re gone. 

Panicked, you look back over at Voldemort and see Neville break free of the Body-Bind. The flaming hat fell to the ground, and you see him grasp hold of something inside of it. Remembering the stories that Harry told when he went into the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve your sister, you think wildly if this is the same thing.

You are proven right when you see Neville clutch the rubied handle of Gryffindor’s sword, and swing it upward.

Everything happens in slow-motion.

The head of the snake spins upward, and in a sickening sight, it flies through the air and lands several feet away from the owner. You see the body twist and writhe on Voldemort’s shoulders, before it slides to the ground and lays still.

Voldemort’s cry of fury is not heard over the chaos of the centaurs and giants. In a split second, you believe that Neville is going to die. 

Suddenly, a Shield Charm bursts between the two of them. Taking this advantage, Neville manages to escape death. Not having time to wonder where the Charm came from, your eyes search the grounds in front of the school, for something that Hagrid yelled a bit ago made your skin turn cold.

_Where’s Harry?_

________________________________

You see him hit the floor. You see him fall but you don’t believe it. Some part of you believed that you were bluffing your way through that entire speech. Some part of you thought that you really were going to die, and the power of the Elder Wand really did belong to Voldemort.

But you see him hit the floor. You see it, while you’re still standing, and now every part of you believes he is dead.

Tom Riddle is dead.

How can that _be?_

People from all around start charging towards you, bumping into you and causing you to flail every which way. You see their tears, you hear their screams and cheers, and you feel their hugs. But amidst all of this, amidst all of the happiness emanating from everyone surrounding you, you can only think of one thing:

_It’s over. I’m free._


End file.
